I've Just Seen A Face
by sidewalk serfer girl
Summary: I found a new face, a new image staring back at me. Let the cool goddess rust away. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. Another Faye and Spike interlude.


Hopefully now typo-free. I fixed a couple of small things based on reviews and me being awake this time around.

This thing takes place post series. I hope you enjoy.

ssg.x.

**Swim in the sea  
Swim inside me  
But you can't swim far away**

"If I asked you what her last name was would you tell me?"

"No. Probably not."

"It's just her last name."

"Is it that important to you?"

Faye stiffened but tried to chalk it up to discomfort from the cold. Which she probably could have pulled off if it _was_ cold. But it wasn't. It was November. And November on this side of Mars was sweltering. She didn't look across at Spike whose eyes watched her through dark corners.

"I just don't see what the big deal is, is all. It's just her name. I don't care. Don't tell me." With an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders she repeated loudly, "I don't care."

Spike glanced sideways at her, "Jacobs."

"Pardon?"

"Julia's last name. It's Jacobs."

"Oh."

Spike couldn't help but look across at her to see what the reaction was, if any. Faye continued to stare off into the water with a rehearsed vapidity that always rubbed Spike the wrong way. He couldn't put his finger on why it bothered him so much.

One of his theories on why it irritated him so was that she was a hypocrite who never spoke about her past despite being such an intrusive harpy at times regarding his. Another was the suspicion that Faye was a lot smarter than both he and Jet but also incredibly lazy. She pretended to be the two-dimensional, cartoon character of a woman he crossed paths with every day so that he and Jet would have to do all the research work themselves now that Ed was gone.

And he didn't like not knowing what she was thinking. He didn't like not really knowing Faye after all this time even though knowing Faye was also a terrifying prospect he only considered at moments like these – few and far between, yes, but still a fertile enough seed in the back of his mind to cause him worry.

The thing that worried him on most nights was that he might one day find out she was perfect for him.

He told her what she wanted to know in exchange for a question of his own. Something about the way she was standing, the way she seemed to be focusing on her breathing, suggested to him that she was expecting it.

"So I can ask you a question now, right?"

"I figured you would."

He paused.

"What are you gonna do after all this?"

There was an uncomfortably long silence before Faye answered. And when she did she pretended she didn't understand the question, which he should have expected she'd do.

"After all _what_?"

"Things aren't gonna stay this way forever. People grow old or up or die –"

"Who? Who's dying?" she asked quietly, demanded almost. The Stranger Faye crept along his spine and he tried to shake her off.

"I didn't say anyone was dying. I'm just saying people die. They get old and they die. Shit happens. People get in the way. Some of them lose their heads."

"What were you really going to ask me?"

"Pardon me?"

"That wasn't what you were going to ask me. You know I don't know the answer to that. I hardly know what I'm going to be doing tomorrow, let alone for the rest of my life. I just asked you a question about your past. You can't ask me a question like 'what are you gonna do after all this?' It's not fair. An eye for an eye."

"Dead or not, her last name's still Jacobs. And you wanna talk about being fair? As far as you're concerned, you don't really have a past. What the hell did you want me to ask? I thought I'd do you a favour. I thought I'd ask a question about your future instead."

He hadn't meant to make her cry. As a matter of fact, he hadn't a clue what had set her off in the first place. What secret nerve had he hit? He filed quickly through the past five minutes. While doing so, Faye had nimbly climbed down from the hull of the Bebop to the dock, cigarette still clamped between her lips. He didn't see her drop. He only heard the thud of her boots and the slap of her hands hitting the wooden slats below. He blinked, bewildered, and called out to her.

"Jesus Christ, Faye! What the hell's wrong with you? Come on back here! I was just playing with you!"

Faye continued walking, sweeping a hand brusquely across her eyes and tossing the cigarette to her side with a starched flick of her wrist. Spike watched her until her form was swallowed up by dust and distance.

**I want him to hurt**

**I want him**

**I want him to hurt**

_I was just playing with you._

_Yeah? Fuck you._

_Fuck you._

Faye sat cross-legged on the coffee table shuffling her deck of cards. It might have been for an hour that she'd been doing it. Or two. She wasn't sure. She was lost somewhere in her head. There were more nooks and corners in there than the boys could probably ever count.

_If he doesn't go off and get himself killed soon I might do it myself._

He was just teasing you.

_Oh, yeah. Okay._

You know, the entire basis of your relationship with him is your witty repartee. If not for that, what the hell else would you talk about?

_I don't know why I should indulge him. It's not like it's ever going to lead to anything._

Look what happened today. A real conversation was about to happen and you stomped on it like it was a fire that needed to be put out.

_He always has to remind me how temporary I am. And he thinks I don't know what he means when he talks about dying. And 'after all this'. I'm just supposed to pretend I don't know what he's going on about, right? _

Faye slammed the cards down on the table, fingers raw from the failed attempt at distraction. She cursed under her breath, examining the red skin and white knuckles of her hands.

_He just got back. He's already thinking about leaving again._

She pressed her face into them, inhaling, exhaling, inhaling deeply.

_For fuck's sake, I don't want him to die. _

_I'll kill him if he does._

Faye chuckled to herself, then moaned tiredly, cradling her head with one hand and leaning her remaining weight on the other.

She thought she'd become suitably relaxed and was considering taking advantage of it and getting to bed for a full night's rest. She was wrong. When she heard footsteps approaching the room with a stressed quietness, caught a shadow in the corner of her eye, her hand flew to the gun lying dutifully nearby on the couch. She fired two shots before realizing she was shooting at Spike.

Spike had thrown himself into the nearest corner, his arms over his face. Faye knew it was a goddamn stroke of luck he hadn't had his gun. He would have killed her for sure, if not by accident due to natural defensive instincts, then on purpose. But of course he didn't have his gun. Why would he think he needed it? He was only looking to hang out on his couch like he did every night.

"What the --" Spike scrambled to stand and launched himself at her, "—fuck are you doing!" The gun clattered noisily against the floor of the ship and Faye tumbled from the coffee table, landing heavily beside it. She could hear her heart tightening in her chest. Spike stood over her, and in one swift movement had the neck of her red sweater gathered fiercely in his two fists, she hung from his grasp shaking like a leaf about to fall from the branch.

"Are you fucking insane!"

Faye recovered the gift of speech after three or four attempts at it, not a single one resulting in a language Spike could understand. "I'm sorry. I thought you were someone sneaking up on me."

"I _was_ someone sneaking up on you. I was _me_ sneaking up on you. I thought you might still be pissed off so…" Spike sighed and shook his head, "You could have fucking killed me, Faye." A momentary expression of confusion crossed his features and he let go of her gently as though he couldn't remember grabbing her in the first place. She groaned quietly, rising to her knees on realizing she may have just bruised her tailbone. Spike's hand closed around her wrist and without asking or offering he pulled her up to her feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes. You?"

"Christ, Faye…" he laughed nervously, "my heart's beating a mile a minute. You know if I had my gun on me I would have put a fucking bullet through your forehead before I even realized who you were."

Faye's chin wobbled. She bit her lip and looked away. Spike rolled his eyes and hesitantly reached out for her shoulders. He huffed, tried to laugh again.

"That came out wrong. I just meant I – " Faye broke out in a sob and Spike continued earnestly, "I'm glad I didn't have my gun. Of course I'm glad. Faye –" he squeezed her shoulders, felt the bone and flesh of them in his hands. Her bone and flesh. She wasn't a cartoon character. She was a girl and he'd fucking frightened her like a monster coming out of her closet in the middle of the night.

_Let go of her, _he thought.

_Let go of me_, she thought. _What I almost did…What could have just happened…_

Something suddenly occurred to Spike that hadn't that afternoon and it made him realize what a goddamned idiot he was.

He felt his stomach knot. His hand moved to the centre of her back and the tremors it caused in her rippled through his arm and straight into his chest. He licked the dryness from his lips and leaned into her ear, afraid to look in her eyes as though the thing he was so scared of finding in there earlier this afternoon could vanish in the darkness of his denial.

"I didn't die," he whispered kindly. Another choked sob escaped her. Spike pressed further against her back. Her arms came around him carefully. He felt her hair move against his jaw as she nodded. "I'm here," he said.

They didn't move for a long time. Faye was afraid she'd let go and things would go back to the way they were before. If Faye was afraid of going back in time, Spike was afraid of moving forward in it. He didn't know how good he'd be at this, at being with Faye. The only thing he knew this second was that he liked having her arms around him and that he felt no desire to withdraw his own.

He closed his eyes, breathing in as much air as his lungs would hold, readying himself for a dive into an ocean he could only estimate the depth of based on the experiences he's had up until now floating above it. He pulled back, creating only enough distance between himself and Faye to allow him to look into her eyes.

She'd been right that afternoon. The question he'd ended up asking wasn't the one he'd wanted an answer to.

He was going to ask Faye if she was glad he'd made it back home.

He smiled to himself, finally right about something.

That girl was always so much smarter than him.

**Lyrics from The Jesus and Mary Chain's _On The Wall_ and Elvis Costello's _God Give Me Strength_.**


End file.
